


Through the Eyes of Oikawa Tooru

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aoba Johsai Week (Haikyuu!!), Aobajousai, Aobajousai Loses, Character Analysis, Character Study, Loss, Oikawa Tooru is a Good Friend, oikawa tooru is enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A short little take on Oikawa as a character (and a kin oops)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Through the Eyes of Oikawa Tooru

Oikawa Tooru was not a genius.

He was smart, no doubt, but _not_ a genius.

Nor was he a prodigy, someone with abilities that seemed to come to them effortlessly, like second nature.

No, his intelligence did not come from books or classes in school, from sitting still in a desk and listening to lectures drone on for what felt like long post their due.

He was strong and stubborn, lifting his friends and teammates up no matter how low he himself felt, no matter how _injured_ he was. And as extreme as it may have looked through the eyes of anyone else, from any viewpoint outside of his life, it was simply a natural response to Oikawa. Because to be strong, surely he had to be useful to others, right?

He was awkward in the best ways, wishing to touch the sunsets but settling for capturing photo after photo and keeping them with him to cherish. The images resting next to numerous snapshots of his nephew in his phones camera roll, and even besides a few photos of him: peace signs and winks from the dorky great king himself.

He was kind and selfless and proud.

His teammates seemed to glow and shine under his influence, his mere _presence._

But Oikawa Tooru was not a genius.

The assumption was easily made though, that surely he had convinced himself that he was _more_ than enough, right? This strong and prideful king?

But though Oikawa Tooru was convincing and nurturing to others, he was not very convincing to himself.

He would sit for hours on end, eyes burning holes into recordings of games, the light dancing and flashing across his features in darkened rooms. He would set volleyball after volleyball until his vision swam and his hands grew numb. Attending practice daily, letting everything else in his life take a backseat to the sport. But throughout all this he still questioned it, if it was enough, if _he_ was enough.

And unfortunately for our wonderful, great Tooru, it seemed as if he had finally gotten his answer.

Wincing as he felt his back crash into the table, he felt the pain shooting up within him but was too focused to care. Watched with pride as Iwaizumi leapt into the air and sent the ball hurtling across the net at the court.

Panic setting in as the ball ricocheted among the Karasuno players, who were working together in perfect unity as they sent the ball back across.

Scrambled to get up, to keep fighting, pushing against pain to return to his team before it was too late. He watched as the ball broke through Karasuno's blockers, hoped with every fiber of his being that it would end here, that it would slam into the floor. 

But at that second, a scream erupted from the other side of the net. A scream of confidence, of reassurance. A call that would replay inside his head for weeks.

It had been the number 10, Shoyo Hinata, who procured the scream, but Oikawa was focused now on something else.

He saw it, the volleyball sailing across the net. Mapped it's trajectory as perfectly as he possibly could. Stood in it's way and held out his arms. But it was too late to stop it. Too late to react as it made impact at just the wrong angle and whizzed past his ear, to the court behind him.

That wall of doubt rocketed up in front of him and he felt helpless.

He was in shock.

Karasuno cheered in victory, but Oikawa's ears had already begun to ring, blocking it out.

Tobio Kageyama. He felt like spitting at the name.

Tobio Kageyama. The genius he could never be.

Tobio Kageyama, the selfish, solitary monarch. But now, standing next to a bright orange bundle of elation and intimidation. Of raw skill and natural talent.

Natural Talent.

He wanted to laugh.

He wanted to cry.

_Why?_

Why had his last chance to help his friends shine been shattered carelessly against the linoleum?

Why was his best never enough?

Why was _he_ not enough.

His knee throbbed. His heart ached. His eyes burned. His mind rang with disbelief. But deep down hadn't he known this had been coming? When his cockiness would fall away to the surfacing of inner doubts. To the surfacing of the _real_ Oikawa Tooru.

He turned his back on the noise of the celebration on the other side of the net.

It may as well have been on the other side of the world, because he had never felt this far from victory. He approached his team, fists clenched, ad a scratchy feeling in his throat. Eyes meeting eyes. He felt the tears well up in his eyes, his vision of his team going blurry. He knew they didn't want to see him like this. Didn't want to see him so utterly lost. But he had to... had to what? To apologize? No. To thank them. 

His voice broke as he shouted his thanks, his appreciation, his love for his team, for his time with them.

_Thank you for the last three years!_

His tears finally fell, and with them fell the tears of his friends, their eyes welling up and spilling over as their proud captain stood before them. Because no matter what he was still their captain. Still their friend. Because in the eyes of his friends, his family, where self-doubt didn't cloud his judgements and the responsibility was not all loaded upon his back, he was still and would always be amazing.

And maybe, this is what he had needed. To lose. To finally hurtle into the fear that had been building up inside him for 18 years, and to realize that it was not the end of the world. It was not the end of volleyball, and it was _not_ the end of Oikawa Tooru. He would not stop playing, would not lose the love that he had for the sport. He would persevere in the way that he always had and only grow stronger.

So no, Oikawa Tooru was not a genius.

But to his friends and his family and anyone who had the fortune to meet him even once, he was something even better.

Oikawa Tooru was _enough._

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey! ok so obviously this is very short but it's been sitting among other short little drabbles in the notes in my phone and i kinda just wanted to do something with it. So here it is! In all its unedited glory ^^


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